Maids
by Doom'Ed69
Summary: There Shall be French Maids. And so it was proclaimed, and so it was done. Unfortunately, Hungary got wind of it. PrussiaxAustria SpainxRomano GerIta
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: **Swearing. Lots of heavy swearing. Suggestions of male/male aaaaaand…. It's crack. Pure, unadulterated, awesome crack. Live it, Learn it, Love it.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**T/N:** (I got these curses from various websites. I'm very sorry if you're fluent and they don't make any sense. I don't speak anything but Canadian English x3)

**Vaffanculo [Italian] Fuck off / Go fuck yourself**

Scheiße [German] Shit

Verflucht nochmal [German] God damn it

Fick dich ins Knie [German] Fuck you

Stück Scheiße [German] Piece of shit

Doitsu [Japanese] It's how to say 'Germany' in Japanese. Italy uses it as a nickname.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**Italy**

"Oh, Ita-chan!" Hungary called across the land that the brunette, starry-eyed male was crossing.

She instantly had his attention, and he was soon changing his direction towards her, waving all the while, "Hungary-nee-chan!"

When he stopped in front of her, Hungary asked sweetly, "where are you going, Italy?"

"I'm going to Doitsu's for breakfast~!" Italy replied happily, before he noticed the boxes that Hungary had stacked in her arms. "Ve~ What are those~?"

"Ah!" Hungary glanced down at the non-descript boxes, a dangerous gleam entering her eyes. She smiled at Italy disarmingly, "they're presents."

"Presents?" Italy asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion, "but Hungary-nee-chan, it's not Christmas~"

"I just wanted to give out gifts," Hungary replied teasingly, putting down the boxes – save for one. "I have one for you!"

Italy immediately perked up at this, "ve~!"

Hungary handed him the box and he began to lift the cover, but she immediately slammed it shut. Hastily, to dispel the look of surprise and hurt on Italy's face, she said, "it's a surprise~! Can you go back to your house and open it?"

"Oh! Okay~" Italy smiled and hugged Hungary as best he could around the box, adding, "thank you, Hungary-nee-chan!"

"You're welcome, Ita-chan," Hungary patted him on the back, then giggled, "remember to try it out right away, alright?"

"Yes!" Italy called as he bounced off back towards his house, blissfully forgetting the German blonde man that was waiting for him to show up that morning.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**Prussia**

"Hm~" Prussia stretched as he walked out of his brother's house, "another awesome day, just for the awesome me!"

And, as was his luck, he was smacked with a frying pan.

"What the hell?!" Prussia yelled with irritated anger from where he had fallen to the ground.

"Prussia~ I have a gift for you~" Hungary giggled, her eyes twinkling gleefully above him.

This caused Prussia to pause as he sat up, rubbing his head, "gift?"

"Yup~!" Hungary dropped a white box onto his lap.

He eyed the white box with glittering ruby eyes. There didn't seem to be any outward markings warning him against opening it. No skull and crossbones sort of thing.

"Oh, go on!" Hungary urged, "open it~!"

"Give me a minute!" Prussia snapped, sitting up fully, crossing his legs and placing the box on his lap. Carefully he lifted one corner of the lid and warily peeked inside. He wasn't scared, no! But if the thing was going to explode on him, he was planning on being 'Far Away'.

However, instead of the predicted explosion, a laced edge flopped out. Prussia still reacted as though it had exploded, throwing the box down on the ground and staring at it like it was demon spawn.

The lace edge fell out further, revealing the black skirt it was attached to.

"… What's that for?" Prussia asked after a moment.

"Silly, it's for you to wear of course!" Hungary giggled, drawing her frying pan from no-where.

Unfortunately Prussia didn't see this and went into his immediate tirade.

"No chance in _hell_ am I ever going to –"

Hungary's frying pan immediately swung into action and, unluckily for Prussia, Germany was on the other side of the house waiting for a bouncy Italian who had yet to appear; much too far away to hear Prussia's shouts of pain and indignation.

One thing was for certain.

Hungary certainly had an interesting definition of the word 'persuasion'.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**Romano**

"Hungary-nee-chan~!"

Suddenly, the brunette nation had her arms full of one bubbly, Italian male.

"I-Ita-chan?" Hungary asked shakily, managing to steady herself.

"Thank you~" Italy chirped, squeezing his arms around her one last time, then stepping back and spin around, his arms spread wide.

Hungary subtly placed her hand underneath her nose, checking for the usual flow of blood, as she stared wide-eyed with a glazed smile at Italy. He had on an honest-to-god French Maid costume, complete with ruffles, a low cut and slightly-lifted skirt hem. As he twirled around, the skirt flared out and rose slightly, giving a tantalizing glimpse of the thighs above the tall stockings.

Finally he stopped, an expectant 'how do I look' expression on his features.

"You look stunning," Hungary offered, her honest smile a little belated, but Italy didn't seem to mind as he returned it ten-fold, "I'm so glad that you like it."

"I do! I do!" Italy nodded fervently. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him, "I should show Germany!"

Just as the excited Italian was about to run off, Hungary caught his arm, stopping him.

He turned large, questioning and almost hurt, eyes upon her and Hungary was grasping at thin air for an excuse. She knew that if the strict, blonde man caught sight of Italy in the outfit that the dress, along with all its trimmings, would disappear into his hidden closet of kink. And would never grace Italy's body ever again, despite how it was _perfectly tailored_ _to fit_. God knows when Germany would ever decide to make a move on the blissful Italian.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea hit her. "Hey, Ita-chan. Could you do something for me?"

And immediately, everything was alright again. Italy perked up like a small dog being offered a treat.

"I have a present for Romano, too, but I have to get to Austria-san's right away," Hungary offered one of the last two white cardboard boxes to Italy, "could you take this to him?"

"Yup!" Italy took the box and happily set of towards Spain's house; the place he knew his brother would be lurking.

After a few moments of gleeful jogging that, at a distance, could be mistaken for skipping, Italy arrived at Spain's front door. He rang the doorbell, happily humming a small tune to himself and enjoying the mid-morning sunshine. Luckily, the one who answered the door was his own brother; Italy didn't mind Spain, but he was on a mission! However, true to form, the first words out of the southern Italian's mouth were straight to the point.

"What the _hell_ are you wearing?!"

-x-x-

"Why am I wearing this?" Romano muttered to himself, turning slightly before the full-length mirror and looking over his shoulder. Self-consciously he tugged at the hem of his short skirt and scowled, "how'd this even fit?!" He raised his voice to address his brother, who was sitting on the toilet seat of the bathroom, smiling, "where'd you get this in the first place?!"

"Hungary-nee-chan~!" Italy hummed.

"She-" Romano choked on his words, his face turning an interesting shade of puce. Finally he spluttered out, "that's it! I'm taking this damn thing off!"

Just as he was tugging the shoulder strap down his arm, Spain appeared in the doorway, smiled obliviously and said, "looks cute, who's it for?"

Romano froze, an embarrassed blush stealing across his face and a crooked frown across his mouth, pupils and irises mere pin-pricks in a sea of white.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**Austria (Main)**

"I'm not leaving the house in this. My apologies," Austria told the glittery-eyed Hungary. He currently wore a rather skimpy, black and white French Maid costume. The skirt seemed impossibly short and he tugged at it, feeling the edging of soft lace.

"Austria-san, please?" Hungary cajoled, "we can find whoever set fire to your clothes!"

Ah yes, the entire reason why he had donned the ridiculous costume in the first place. Hungary had found a pile of ashes in the backyard and his wardrobe was mysteriously empty. Only one conclusion could be drawn.

Someone had burned all his clothes.

"… I cannot let a woman go looking all by herself for the perpetrator, so I suppose I shall have to accompany you…" Austria reluctantly said, after much fore-thought. At least he'd still have his-

"By the way, they burned your jacket, too." Hungary piped up.

Any belief that Austria had left in the sanity of the world immediately vanished. After a moment he asked slowly, "… How do you know that?"

"Um… Because…" Hungary avoided eye contact, clasping her hands a few times, "it wasn't hanging up downstairs when I arrived?"

Austria was simply silent.

Suddenly, from downstairs came a great shout, "RODDY! YOUR EX-WIFE IS SO DEAD!"

Hungary's eyes widened for a moment – however, it was not in fear, but in the terrifying fangirl-like way that Austria had been subject to the moment he had donned the erotic uniform. With a sigh, Austria called out the door so that his voice carried to the first floor, "… Why, Gilbert?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY THAT DENSE, YA PRISS?! YOU MUST HAVE SHIT FOR BRAINS!" Prussia yelled thunderously up the stairs.

"Shall we go, Austria-san~?" Hungary asked, her giggles intermittent with pleased hums.

Austria hesitantly shook his head. There was no way he was going anywhere near the enraged Prussian. Surely Hungary wasn't suicidal, though she had held her own against Prussia well enough in the past.

But still – it was the principal of the thing.

"How else are we going to find who burned your clothes?" Hungary asked innocently, and Austria found himself starting to relent when great, heavy footsteps thundered up the steps.

"Where the hell is that bitch?! I'm NOT wearing this any longer!" Prussia proclaimed as he sped up the second flight of stairs.

Austria immediately blushed, staring petrified at the door of the room both he and Hungary were standing in. If Prussia were to come in and see the aristocratic nation in such a humiliating costume then he'd tease the daylights out of him. Austria would never be able to leave his house again!

He heard Prussia storm up the last few steps and suddenly jerked into action.

"Don't come in!" Austria shouted, slamming the door closed, the embarrassed blush increasing across his cheeks.

"WHY THE HELL NOT?! IS SHE IN THERE?! I'LL FRICKIN' KILL HER! WHY DO I HAVE TO WEAR THIS?!" Prussia bellowed through the door.

"Prussia! Language, unless you want to kiss my frying pan again!" Hungary called warningly through the door, though a slight chuckle tinted her voice.

"SCREW YOU!"

"G-Gilbert, calm down!" Austria said in attempts to soothe the seething nation on the other side of the door that the aristocrat had braced himself against, "But please don't come in!"

"I'm comin' in! Unlock the fuckin' door _Roddy_!" Prussia growled, banging one fist emphatically against the door. The poor slab of wood jumped on its hinges, despite the thickness.

Austria felt the hit through the door jolt against his side and was absolutely appalled. "Don't break my door!"

"Then open the stupid door!" Prussia continued to pound his fists against the door, the wood groaning and bowing under the sheer force of his blows.

"You-" Austria began indignantly, thoroughly infuriated at the ruby-eyed male's blatant disregard for respecting property. Roughly, Austria tugged the door open and was immediately forced to dodge a fist that nearly hit him straight in the face, "you'll destroy it you idiot!! What's wrong with you, you great brute?!"

"What's WRONG with me?! Take a wild gue…" Prussia stopped, his gaze dropping down over Austria and then back up, sweeping over the lacy collar, short ruffled skirt and thigh-high socks made of white silk.

A smirk, followed a wolf-whistle occurred before Prussia found himself saying with an amused voice, "Wow, Roddy!"

Hungary let out a breathy giggle.

"… 'Wow' what you ingra – OH." Austria blushed heavily then began to shove at Prussia, attempting to push the smirking nation out the door, "go away! Get OUT!"

Prussia smirked at the blushing nation's attempts. Austria had his hands spread firmly against Prussia's chest and his feet grounded on the floor. This didn't stop Prussia from striding forward and easily pushing them further away from the door. He had completely forgotten why he had run to Austria's house in the first place.

This allowed Hungary to slip out the door, closing it with a bang and turning the lock with a flourish.

"I think you both need to calm down a little~"

Prussia whirled around, the noise causing him to remember his mission to kill Hungary for his torture. "HEY!" He rattled the handle, but the door wouldn't budge, "UNLOCK THIS RIGHT NOW!"

"Hungary!" Austria shouted in a surprised voice. How could she lock him in here with Prussia of all people? … How could she even lock the door?!

Hungary giggled from the other side, "Make sure you smile for the cameras boys~"

"You damn bitch! JUST UNLOCK IT!"

"Hungary, please unlock the door!"

"Sorry, Austria-san~" Hungary called, twirled around and skipped off.

"DAMMIT!" Prussia was nearly ripping out his hair, "RODDY, WHY DOES THE DOOR LOCK FROM THE OUTSIDE?! FUCKING-" at this point, Prussia just went off on a swearing rampage, his words slurring as he slipped into straight German.

"Hungary!" Austria was standing right next to the door, trying to hear even a small noise that would indicate the Hungary was still there, though it was hard to hear it over Prussia's angered shouts. Austria tried again tentatively, "Hungary?"

"-Scheiße! Verflucht nochmal! Fick dich -!"

"Oh, calm down, won't you?" Austria snapped in Prussia's direction, one of his hands still twisting the knob, attempting to force it open. Suddenly he froze, realizing the reason for Prussia to come rampaging into his house. The Prussian man was wearing his own short black skirted dress, bloody red silk shredding through the top and velvet ribbons wrapped around his limbs. Nestled in his silver hair were two perky, white bunny ears.

"Fick dich ins Knie! I'm going to kill her, then bring her back to life and clone her and then kill all her clones and BURN HER TO ASHES!" Prussia swore, his expression enraged and his voice thick with accent. In an abrupt movement, he dashed over to the window and threw it open.

"What are you doing?!" Austria asked, shaken out of his trance by the dangerous way that Prussia leaned out the window.

"HUNGARY, YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN SO MUCH PAIN SOON!" Swiftly, Prussia threw one bare thigh over the sill and began to sidle his way out of the broad window.

Austria rushed across the room and latched onto Prussia's arm, yelling, "THIS IS THE THIRD FLOOR, YOU NUMBSKULL!"

"LET GO OF ME, YOU BASTARD! I'M GONNA KILL HER, I ALREADY TOLD YOU!"

"IT'S THE _THIRD _FLOOR! YOU'LL DIE, YOU IDIOT!"

"WHAT, DO YOU ACTUALLY CARE?" Prussia glared.

Austria's immediate reaction was to deny the accusation without really answering the question, "I DON'T WANT YOUR BLOOD IN MY GARDEN! IT'S HARD TO CLEAN THE FLOWERS!"

"YOU'RE SUCH A WOMAN!" Prussia growled, then tugged at his arm, "NOW LET _GO!"_

"NO!" Austria attempted to amend, without actually saying right out what he meant. Not that he cared about the Prussian at all. "GERMANY WOULD BE UPSET AND SO WOULD ENGLAND AND WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD ANYONE WANT YOU TO DIE YOU FOOL-?!"

As Austria rambled on, Prussia continued to attempt to escape through the window, despite the incredible distance from the sill to any solid ground.

"-AND ARE YOU SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING GOING OUTSIDE IN _THAT?!"_

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK I GOT HERE, ASSHOLE?!" Prussia finally snapped.

A stricken look crossed Austria's features. "… Y-You went outside in that, and came ALL THE WAY HERE?!"

"YOU'RE SLOW TODAY, YA PRISS!" Prussia shouted back, not taking any amusement in the fact that Austria was actually showing emotion other than mild irritation, "OF _COURSE_ I DID! IT'S WORTH IT IF I CAN GET REVENGE ON YOUR STUPID EX-WIFE!"

Austria was simply silent.

"WHAT?! WHAT'S GOT YER PANTIES IN A TWIST?!"

Austria's brows met harshly over his stormy violet eyes and his face had turned an interesting shade of vermillion, "ARE YOU STUPID?!"

From outside, a fanciful and pleasantly happy voice floated up to the window, "Ve~ See Romano? They're wearing them too~!"

Suddenly, Austria spotted the Italy brothers standing on his front lawn, and let out a definite squeak as he ducked down so that they couldn't see him. Unfortunately, this meant letting go of Prussia.

The silver-haired man nearly fell out of the window, but corrected his balance. Though he was now leaning more out of the window than inside it.

Italy was currently standing on the front lawn, waving up at Prussia and Austria, his brother looking quite put-out indeed. They both wore their own customized French maid uniforms, complete with lace. Romano even had a small, lacy cap perched on his brown hair. A slight blush dusted across his cheeks as it continually slipped down to rub over the curl that grew at an odd angle from his head.

"I can see your underwear, potato-loving bastard," Romano said maliciously, peering up at Prussia as he perched on the window-sill.

Prussia flipped Romano the bird and said blithely, "Shut up, you little Spain-fucker~!"

"YOU GET OFF ON POTATOES AND WURST, ASSHOLE!" Romano spat back at him, waving a fist in the air. How dare Prussia refer to him and Spain that way?! He didn't even like the dense brunet! This caused him to launch into an incoherent ranting session.

"GIBLERT! GET INSIDE, NOW!" Austria commanded, though he was still refusing to come close to the window now that the Italy brothers had arrived.

Prussia rounded on the aristocratic nation, "Screw you!"

"IF YOU FALL-"

"YEAH, YEAH, YOU'RE NOT CATCHIN' ME BLAH BLAH BLAH – QUIT PMSIN', YA BASTARD!" Prussia turned back to face the two Italians, swaying precariously as he did so, "NOW, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU TWO TWINS WEARIN' THESE STUPID OUTFITS?!"

Romano's ranting effectively covered his brother's much more mild reply of, "Hungary-nee-chan gave them to us~ Can I see yours?"

Austria, though, seemed to have heard the obliviously happy nation's reply, "ITALY! DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM!"

However, Prussia was too busy getting angry at _yet another_ country to realize that Austria was no longer physically restraining him, "YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR BROTHER, YOU PANSY. ENJOY THE VIEW WHILE YOU CAN." Then, in a childish display, Prussia wiggled his ass at Romano, the short skirt doing nothing to conceal his undergarments.

"GILBERT!" Austria cried in a disapproving tone.

"WHAT?!" Prussia asked, truly not understanding what Austria was yelling at him for.

"**Vaffanculo! YOU COCKSLUT! GET DOWN HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!" **Romano shouted furiously, stopping his feet and shaking his fists.

"Ve~ Romano… Calm down~ I sleep with Doitsu all the time~" Italy said with a blissful demeanor about him. The poor thing thought he was being soothing.

"ITALY! ROMANO! STOP PROVOKING HIM!" Austria shouted commandingly as he grabbed Prussia once more, "AND YOU! STOP BEING OBSCENE! GET BACK IN HERE BEFORE YOU GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK!"

Prussia was completely ignoring the Austrian, "YOU DAMN SON-OF-A-BITCH-WHORE MOTHER FUCKER! I'LL GLADLY GET DOWN SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS, Stück Scheiße!"

"GILBERt, GET IN HERE!"

"PISS OFF, BASTARD!" Prussia yelled in reflex as he struggled to free himself from Austria's grasp.

"Ve…" Italy was quickly becoming bored with his brother's and Prussia's fight and had begun wilting slightly.

"I'LL BEAT YOU INTO THE GROUND, FUCKER!" Romano shouted, puffs of steam coming off of his tomato-red face.

"Language!" Austria said belatedly at both cussing nations, not that it did any good.

Suddenly Romano rounded on his brother, just catching up with something he had said, "WAIT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SLEEP WITH THAT POTATO BASTARD?! I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!"

"I'M SO SURE, YOU COCKSUCKER." At this, an evil leer crossed Prussia's lips. He leaned further out the window tauntingly, "THAT'S PROBABLY THE ONLY REASON SPAIN KEEPS YOU AROUND- IT'S THE ONLY THING YOU'RE GOOD AT!"

"COME BACK INSIDE, GILBERT, PLEASE!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

And Romano was having difficulties thinking of a response due to the fact that he was simply _to fucking furious_ to think coherently, "W-YOU- A-ATLEAST I'M NOT WEARING A WHORE-MAID UNIFORM!"

"Um… Romano…" Italy piped up quietly.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Romano shouted to the skies with frustration.

Finally, Austria gave up and moved further back into the room, hoping that Prussia wouldn't fall out the window. The aristocrat picked up the phone and began dialing a number that he had used frequently before.

"YES YOU ARE," Prussia yelled down at the fuming Italian man, "OR ARE YOU SO STUPID THAT YOU DIDN'T REALIZE WHAT THE FUCK YOU WERE WEARING?!" His trademark awesomer-than-you laugh interrupted his tirade, "MEIN GOTT! YOU'RE THE STUPIDER TWIN, YET YOU'RE THE OLDER ONE! THIS IS RICH!"

"SHUT UP YOU FUCKING BASTARD! AT LEAST I DON'T IDOLIZE AN OLD, DEAD MAN!"

"Ve~… Lovino…" Italy began, his voice by no means quiet, but grossly overwhelmed by Romano's screeching and Prussia's laughter. The ignored Italian began rubbing at his eyes with one fist, holding back a yawn as best he could.

"HEY! OLD FRITZ WAS A POWERFUL LEADER! HE WAS A SHITLOAD BETTER THAN YOU'LL EVER BE, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" Prussia shouted down, his mood switching frightfully fast to vicious anger.

From the depths of the room, Austria looked over at Prussia apprehensively. Rubbing his temple wearily, he said into the phone, " Please, just come and get him…"

"You can insult _me_ all you want, but you never, _ever_ say _anything_ about Old Fritz. EVER, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" The Prussian's ruby eyes flashed dangerously, his sharp teeth bared.

Suddenly, he shifted his weight far enough over the sill and wiggled himself further in preparation to jump. Immediately, Austria lunged and grabbed the back of Prussia's dress shouting "DON'T YOU DARE! No, no, not you!" He grumbled into the phone, "just hurry alright?!"

"LET ME GO, RODERICH!"

Austria chucked the phone away and wrapped both his arms around Prussia's body, " I told you NOT to jump!"

Down on the front lawn, Italy was tugging at his brother's dress insistently in hopes of getting his attention, "Ve~! Lovinooooo~!"

However, the shouting Italian ignored him in favour of screaming gleefully, "YOU ARE SO WHIPPED YOU BASTARD! YOU HAVE NO FUCKING-"

Abruptly, Romano's eyes rolled back into his head as he fell in a boneless rush to the green lawn, Italy collapsing almost simultaneously.

"I'M GONNA BEAT HIS ASS! HE DISSED OLD FRITZ!" Prussia ceased his struggling the moment Romano stilled. By the time both Italians had hit the velvety grass, he had a look of registered shock mixed with mild confusion on his face, "… Eh?"

There was a moment of blissful silence, a startling counter-point to the chaos that had been reality mere seconds before. Tentatively, as though breaking the silence would cause Prussia to emerge from his confused stillness, Austria offered an explanation, "… I think it's time for their siesta…"

Instead of attempting to break free, Prussia examined both brothers pensively, then began, "… Since he's asleep, can I go kick him in his fuckin' family jewels so hard that his non-existent ten-times-great-grandchildren'll feel it when he wakes up?" The younger italian brother made a small noise of contentment as he curled up further on the ground, while the elder still had a passive scowl on his face.

"Wait, why the fuck am I asking you for permission?!" Prussia asked rhetorically, his physical instincts to escape kicking in once more.

"No, you may not!" Austria automatically answered his former question, pulling Prussia back into the room.

Unfortunately, Prussia had underestimated the force Austria was prepared to use and that caused them to both tumble backwards into the room.

Letting out an undignified yelp as he fell backwards onto the aristocrat, Prussia shouted, "RODERICH, DAMMIT! Let go of me, you stupid pansy!"

"If I let go you'll just try to jump out the window again!" Austria grit his teeth, "and stop squirming!"

Prussia didn't listen. If anything, he began to struggle more, "DUH! If you forgot, your fuckin' ex-wife LOCKED THE GODDAMNED DOOR! The window's the only way to kick that stupid pansy in the balls!"

"Why don't you just leave him be?!" Austria suggested. Knowing that that wouldn't be an option for the proud male, he offered another, "or at least wait until the door's UNLOCKED?!"

"Because he insulted Old Fritz… And I won't let him get away with that…!" Prussia growled animalisticaly, his fury still burning strong, "And who's to say when the fuckin' door is unlocked that he'll still be there?!"

"You know, he never insulted Old Fritz. Romano merely said that he was old and dead. Right on both accounts, really," Austria offered logically, finally releasing his grasp once he received an elbow to the stomach.

"You don't get it, ya priss! You just DON'T." Prussia said emphatically as he rolled off of the wincing nation and stood up, a glare fixed in place.

Germany's rolling base voice called up from outside through the open window, "… Austria? Where's brother? AND WHY IS ITALY WEARING A MAID COSTUME –ROMANO?!"

And the jollies kept on coming.

Ausria rolled his eyes at Prussia, and the two Italies who were sleeping on his front lawn and just the world in general for damning him to this mess, "we're up here, Germany. The door to this room is locked from the outside, so could you please come unlock it?"

Germany nodded and began to make his way towards the front door, but Italy had a different idea, it seemed. He rolled over and latched onto Germany's shined shoe, his eyes still closed in a deep sleep as he mumbled groggily, "ve~ Doitsu… Pasta, ne?"

"Y-Yeah, I'll be right up!" Germany called up at the window so that they knew he intended to help them… It just might take him a moment to get there. He lowered his voice so that the husky rumble wouldn't reach the occupants of the house, "… Italy, Italy – let go of me."

Despite the gentle nudging Germany gave him, Italy refused to let go.

Prussia, being already irritated, lost all patience and stalked over to the window once again and peered down at his younger brother, "Yo, West! Roderich's being an ass, so you might want to hurry – if you don't unlock this door in a couple minutes, I'm going to jump out of this fuckin' window!"

"Gilbert, don't start this up again…" Austria groaned wearily, standing to move over to a chair.

"Br-Brother! No!" Germany called out, knowing all too well that a jump from that height wasn't safe. He managed to remove Italy's grip on his boot, the young brunette immediately rolling over and latching onto his brother's back with a small smile. " I-I'm coming up now!" Germany shouted up at the window as he rushed into the house.

Prussia was now ignoring Austria in favour of looking out the window at the slumbering brothers. Specifically at the elder of the two.

Romano squirmed slightly as he slurred in his sleep, "st'pid Spain… bast'rd .. nnng…" His brow furrowed at whatever he was dreaming about.

A sneaky smirk stretched across Prussia's thin lips. He pressed his palms against the sill, stuck his head and shoulders out the window and wiggled his but like a giant house-cat waiting to pounce on its favourite toy.

Sensing a lunge, Austria grabbed the back of his dress in restraint and said warningly, "don't."

"Piss off, asshole," Prussia hissed, turning abruptly and swatting at Austria's hand.

Germany's muted baritone came through the walls, "Austria? Brother? Which room are you…"

"We're over here!" Austria called out over his shoulder, relinquishing his grip on Prussia.

"C-Coming!" Germany's reply was quickly followed by the mechanical click of the lock, then the light thud of the door as it was flung open (Austria winced as it hit the wall), "There you ar-…!" Blue eyes widened, and a heavy flush fell over Germany's features. "Wh-Wh-Wh-WHAT ARE YOU TWO WEARING?!"

Prussia crossed his arms and grumbled, "Hungary's horrible creations, that's what we're wearing!"

"Actually she said something about Japan," Austria corrected Prussia absentmindedly, then turned to Germany and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Germany. I should have asked you to bring extra clothing; I don't have any in my house."

"I-It's okay, Austria… I didn't realize-" Germany was cut off abruptly as Prussia stormed past him, "Brother?!"

They heard Prussia's heavy footfalls on the stairs as he descended, his voice carrying back up to them, "GONNA GET REVENGE, BEE ARE BEE."

Germany spun around and ran to the top of the stairs, feeling more than a little out-of-control of the situation, "Brother, w-wait! You're wearing a m-maid outfit!"

"NO SHIT SHERLOCK. HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO COME TO THAT CONCLUSION, YOU GENIUS?!"

Austria followed more sedately, pausing at Germany's side, "he wants to get back at Romano."

"For…?" Germany asked weakly, looking as though the entire world was collapsing around him.

"I'm not sure anymore…" Austria sighed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Prussia hurried out the house, his feet scampering down carpeted stairs, through the grand entrance way and past the wide front door onto a manicured lawn. As he stalked over to the comatose Italians, Prussia couldn't smother his smirk.

"Take this, you fuckin' prick!" Prussia spat vindictively, pulling his foot back and kicking Romano in the family jewels. Immediately, Romano cringed, curling in upon himself and groaning fitfully, clutching at the abused part of his body.

A sharp nod from the Prussian told of his satisfaction in revenge, fists planted firmly on hips and feet spread apart, the skirt waving around his legs in the breeze.

His moment of gloating was interrupted by one younger brother who ran over to the window and shouted down at him, "BR-BROTHER! WHY WOULD YOU _DO _THAT?! MEIN GOTT!"

While the dislike towards Romano wasn't unfathomable to Germany, the actual assault was and to kick him _there_ of all places… Germany shuddered unnoticeably, concentrating on keeping his gaze firmly on his older; and much more troublesome; brother.

Prussia grit his teeth and shouted up, "HE INSULTED OLD FRITZ I AM COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED!"

Just at that moment, in a stroke of pure coincidence, Spain strolled by, though it may just be because he had finally developed a sensor for whenever Romano managed to dig himself into a hole that he couldn't get out of. Which was quite frequently. Green eyes glanced over at the three skirt-clad males, but all the Spaniard had to say was, "oh, there he is!" in that perpetually oblivious and cheery voice.

Prussia whipped around, still puffed up in indignance over the 'Old Fritz' comment from Romano, but all Spain did was mildly stroll past, heft up Romano and sling him over his shoulder in a show of ungainly strength that hadn't been lost from his conquistador days.

Then, Spain noticed his former ally and friend. A smile, brilliant and chatty, stretched across his face, "nice outfit."

"Antonio, we've been friends for centuries. Do me a favour and SHUT THE FUCK UP." Prussia was red in the face from all his yelling and anger, fists clenched tightly at his sides, "Take your boytoy and go!"

Romano was whimpering and weakly beating his fists against Spain's back groggily slurring, "damn you, you go'damn fuckin' bast'rd. A'yer fault…"

Spain just tipped his head, quipped a small 'bye then~' and continued on his leisurely walk, as though he hadn't paused upon one of the most awkward situations of the decade. Being oblivious sure came in handy when it came to potentially mind-scarring situations.

"What is wrong with you, Gilbert?!" Austria's call preceded him as he rushed out the front door, followed closely by a cautious, yet rigid Germany.

"I already told you, IDIOT." Prussia rounded, spinning angrily on his heel as he narrowed his eyes and placed his hands imperiously on his hips, "is your memory THAT bad?!"

"I feel the need to remind you of your stupidity." Austria said pointedly, sniffing distastefully and lifting his chin slightly.

At that moment, Italy squirmed around on the grass, still decidedly asleep, but sorely missing the heat that his brother had offered. Now that the more irritable Italian was gone, Italy found himself without someone to cuddle and that meant Something was Very Wrong. His back bumped into the toe of Germany's shined boot and he immediately flipped over, letting out a contented and subconscious 've~' as he clutched his arms around the larger man's leather-clad calf.

Germany was immediately preoccupied with attempting to pry the sleeping Italian parasite from his leg.

Without shame, Prussia snorted, then walked up to Austria and trailed his fingers down Austria's chest, along the satin and smooth silk, tracing lacy curves and tugging on the ribbons that tied the corset front together, "are you sure about that~?" his voice dropped to a sultry octave and a lecherous wink thrown in for good measure.

"What are you doing?" Austria asked, blushing and with some indignance. He took one half-step backwards, away from the obviously cracked man in front of him.

Prussia simply leaned closer to his retreating quarry, "you, hopefully."

Austria shivered at the breath that ghosted over his neck, his blush darkening, "you only have two settings, don't you? Excited and horny."

-"I-Italy, get off…"-

"No," Prussia pulled back and stuck his lower lip out in a pout, "I have lots of settings," a lecherous tone entered his voice, "would you like to see them all~?"

"Not now, Gilbert…" an apprehensive glance towards the flustered German and sleeping Italian.

"Oh, so later~?" Prussia held Austria's chin between his fingers and carefully lifted it, so that they were once again looking each other in the eye.

-"Ve~ Germany~ let's go make pasta~"-

"S-stop twisting my words like that!" Austria snapped, his hands curled into fists.

"I'm not twistin' yer words, I'm merely elaboratin'."

Austria was silent a moment, staring at Prussia with his mischievous grin and lecherous words. Pale fingers that were once cupped around his chin trailed upwards to pull at his lower lip. The slightly calloused, warm pads of pale pointer and third fingers pushed along the slightly rouged lip.

"You are such an exhibitionist."

"Whatever d'ya mean, Roddy~?" Prussia hummed, more than content to continue his exploration of Austria's lips with his finger.

"We're standing in my front yard!" Austria replied indignantly, "your brother is _right there!_"

"And you're still wearin' your maid costume, darlin'." Prussia countered, wrapping both arms around Austria's waist and pulling him closer, a mocking twist to his lips, "so don't call just me an exhibitionist."

-"… Let's go inside."-

Austria was then frightfully reminded of how short the dress really was; the bizarre feeling of air against his thighs had somewhere along the line begun to feel normal; and tried to back away from the forced embrace, "I'm going inside."

"No yer not." Prussia replied stubbornly, pulling his arms tighter and stepping forward until he was satisfied with the lack of distance.

"I-I… wha-" Austria struggled to free his arms, but only managed to move one around, which he used to attempt to flatten the skirt at the back, "I need to change!"

Moving one hand from the small of Austria's back, Prussia curled his fingers around the hem of the frilly skirt and lifted it a fraction against the tight hold the pianist had, "No you don't, Roderich~"

"Don't-! Don't do that!"

A frown flipped Prussia's smirk, "why not, Roddy~?" He seemed genuinely puzzled.

Embarrassed, Austria hissed, "what do you think I'm wearing underneath?!"

"I'm kind of hoping nothin' – makes my job easier."

Austria was simply shocked. Stunned silent at the audacity of Prussia, but he had always been a pervert, so there wasn't really any reason to be surprised, was there?

"You're not strugglin'," Prussia leered, leaning towards Austria even further until his nose brushed along the smooth expanse of cheek, followed by a light brush of dry lips, "which shows me that you want me, darlin'."

As Prussia pulled back slightly, a smirk plastered to his lips, Austria regained coherency and managed to realize exactly what Prussia had been up to. "I-I'll have you know that I am, in fact, wearing undergarments. I would just rather that the entire world _didn't see them!_" The usual disapproving frown had worked its way onto Austria's features, though a blush of frustration was still high on his cheeks.

"You're soundin' more and more like a woman ever second, Roderich!" a brief laugh interrupted Prussia's teasing reply, "what, are they pink? Covered in PIANOS~? Or maybe there's a picture of my face on your ass, and you're too embarrassed to show everyone how much you yearn for me~"

"There is not!" Austria spat in offence, blushing, "Who would want your face there?!" a pause, then belatedly, "And I _do not_ 'year for you'!"

"You SO yearn for me~" Prussia teased, "I'm here to help you with your URGES."

"Tch."

"Oh-so you don't want my face at your ass. So do you want my face at your crotch, then~?" Prussia began laughing uncontrollably, his arms tightening around Austria.

Austria was flustered, blushing and attempting to force a coherent response out, "Let go of me! I don't – what… you… just… just _what?!_"

Prussia relinquished his hold on the confused nation, only to kneel on the grass, one hand on Austria's waist and the other somewhere lower. His pointed face hovered level with Austria's navel, smug smirk upturned as he laughed wickedly, "You. Want. My. Face. At. Your. Crotch. Yes?"

"NO." Austria denied, his hand reaching out to grip Prussia's head – in hopes of pulling him away _of course_ – but a pull became a push and the pale forehead connected with silk that covered Austria's stomach.

Prussia glanced up through remarkably dark eyelashes, "your hand seems to be betrayin' yer words~"

As Austria snatched his hand away in embarrassment, Italy ran out of his house; his front door; with clothes gripped in fists and draped all over his body, streaming out behind him like multi-coloured sails.

"Austria-nii~! Why are all your clothing in the kitchen~? Oh-"

From his angle, he must have glimpsed the tuft of silver hair level with Austria's skirt because he stopped abruptly in the doorway, blinking and tipping his head to the side.

Prussia simply glanced around Austria's skirt, completely ignoring the spluttering nation, and grinned, "Yo, Feliciano! Welcome back!" he then; much to Austria's relief; stood up and promptly wrapped his arms loosely around Austria's waist again, pulling him closer and resting his chin on the shoulder before him; much to Austria's disbelief, "did you make the pasta already?"

Austria was shocked out of his stunned state by the hand that 'innocently' traced the curve of his behind and let out an indignant noise as Germany called from the doorway, "Br-Brother, PLEASE…"

"Don't be such a party-pooper, West~" Prussia whined, grinning even wider, until Austria thwacked him on the head.

"Hand off!" A flush was predominant on the aristocrat's face as he turned (as best he could with Prussia squeezing him like that) and immediately spoke, "my clothing!"

"Yeah, yeah! They were in the cupboard, and the fridge and the dishwasher and…" Italy began again excitedly, resuming his fists wild movement, subsequently waving a pair of boxers in the air, "… and this I found in the breadbox!"

"Whose boxers are those, Feli?" Prussia squinted at the article of clothing, a glint in his eye that suggested he had plans for them, "And how'd they get in the kitchen~?"

Germany replied for Italy, who was still naming off the places he had found each sock, glove and shirt, "I – I suppose that Hungary must have put them there… By any chance, did it perhaps involve her trying to get you into a maid costume?"

"Probably," Prussia shrugged here, his body curved even closer around Austria's, "anything that involves Roderich's clothes bein' put in random places – especially the fridge – probably means it was his stupid, creepy, ex-wife."

"Don't touch me so familiarly," Austria protested, breaking into the blithe conversation as Prussia's hands once again began wandering where Austria would prefer they didn't.

"You weren't sayin' that last night~" Prussia gave Austria a lecherous wink, before letting go and stepping away; his arms weighted down slightly with reluctance.

Austria wasn't allowed a reply because at that moment Italy abruptly threw his hands up; flinging the clothing into the air; and crying out, "THE PASTA!" before bolting back into the house, leaving Austria's clothes spread out across the lawn. Germany followed him inside in silence.

The aristocrat twitched, wanting desperately to pick his clothes; oh god not _those _shirts; up.

Prussia simply stretched his arms upwards languorously, arms twining above his head and toes curling into the plush grass, "mm… This is kinda comfy… Breezy, too… Still gonna kill 'er, though…" His spine bowed backwards slightly, shoulders coming up to ears in an attempt to stretch every muscle. Unfortunately, the black and rouge skirt rode up his thigh slightly and didn't return to its previous place even when Prussia had lowered his arms.

"Pull your skirt down before you kill someone," Austria said in a clipped tone as he bent over to pick up a piece of clothing.

"Kill 'em with my five metres, eh?" Prussia snickered.

"Right, whatever you say," Austria allowed. He had had quite enough of a hassle for one day, thank you very much, and he was not going to get into any further arguments. Maybe if he humored the idiot, then he would _leave_, which Austria, unwittingly, assumed would give him peace and quiet.

"You're jealous of my five metres~! Admit it, Roddy, you WISH that you had five metres, so you could brag~"

At every word, Austria could feel the ire rising within him. Finally, he stalked over to Prussia and tugged the edge of his skirt down with a jerk, "I wouldn't brag. Don't go revealing yourself just anywhere."

No one really realized, least of all Austria himself, that the brunette was easily jealous. He hadn't ever had much to be jealous of, but this… this! This was his- the peaceful time, he meant- and for Prussia to be invading… rather, wasting that time was unacceptable!

"I'm sexy awesome," Prussia glared at Austria, "I wanna flaunt what I've got. And… Why do you care, Roddy?"

"Well," Austria began self-righteously, "you _are_ standing on my front lawn. If you're intent on exposing yourself I suggest you find a more appropriate place."

"…" Prussia slowly began pulling the skirt up his thigh, face expressionless as he watched Austria's reaction.

Austria simply frowned in a disapproving warning.

Prussia continued to inch the fabric upwards, stepping forward with one leg and lowering his eyelids challengingly, and with a hint of something more. Austria wasn't so blind as to realize what Prussia was trying to get at, so when a brief glance around his property proved they were alone, the brunette pulled him closer and brushed their lips in a slight kiss. The contact surprising after all the flirting that had been happening all morning; because though it may not seem it to most, they _had _been flirting; and the stagnant lack of contact since Prussia had released his forced embrace of Austria. It was the sort of kiss that could be taken as little more than an accident, except Austria's violet eyes were open and lidded and cast downwards as Prussia blushed; caught unawares.

And then they were separate, Austria back to his task of gathering clothing, "Now stop being foolish and go in the house before you start a riot."

The abrupt loss of contact left Prussia slightly bewildered as he stood dumbly, until he heard Austria's curt words; cold, even, after their kiss. He stalked past Austria towards the house muttering, "… hmph, whatever."

Austria waited a moment, teeth picking at his lip, until he was sure Prussia was in the house before turning to the bushes and calling out in irritation, "I know you're there."

"Ahhh, _mon cher_ Austria! You know me too well~" France smiled without remorse as he stepped out of Austria's bushes. Austria was pleased to see that he had a leaf tangled in his hair. France stepped closer, waggling his brows, in what he must have thought was an attractive manner, and saying slyly, "tu est tres beau."

"Don't touch me," Austria frowned warningly, folding the collected clothes over his arm and facing France directly.

"But I can't resist a woman in uniform~!"

France took a step forward, Austria a step back.

"I'm not female, France," Austria replied, his expression not quite a glare, but disapproving none-the-less.

"That's not what your magnificent dress is telling me~" France moved closer, a glint in his eyes that didn't bode well.

"This is not my dress, it's hardly what I would call magnificent."

"I suppose I can hire you to work at my house as a maid~ No one is here to stop me, anyways," France replied without listening, stepping forward again, slightly on a diagonal as though approaching a wild animal more prone to flight than fight.

"Don't even try that on me, Francis. I don't need someone to stop you," why did everyone assume he couldn't take care of himself? Lose a few wars and everyone believes you're a pushover!

France was advancing quicker now, Austria too slow to back off felt one hand run down his side, caressing the wrinkles and ribbons in the dress, "Mm, delicioius~"

"Don't touch me."

Austria swatted at France's hand and turned to walk away, but he didn't get far.

"Ah, mon amour, do not be difficult!" France called as he lunged at Austria, catching the brunette around the waist and pulling him down. Austria kicked out, unsuccessfully and fell harshly to the ground.

At that moment, Italy ran out, "Austria-nii! Pasta's ready~! Veeee~ France-nii, what are you doing?" Italy cocked his head to the side.

France ignored the Italian and commenced his cursory groping, a perverted smirk on his face, "why don't you come back to my house and be my maid, mon petit fleur~? I shall treat you well…"

Prussia followed Italy out, his step buoyant enough to flounce the lacy skirt," Yeah, c'mon, Rod-" he stopped dead in his tracks, "… France?!" Glittering red eyes narrowed to a glare as Prussia spat, "France. Let go of him. NOW."

"And why should I, Prussia~?" France asked, looking up and obviously enjoying both Italy and Prussia in their respective costumes.

"Cause I said so, you prickish Frog!"

"I said NO! Why won't anyone listen?!" Austria called out in frustration, writhing on the ground, attempting to pry his body from beneath France's.

"Ve~ I'm listening~" Italy commented hazily.

"That's not exactly helpful, Italy," Austria gritted his teeth and managed to land another kick on France.

"Stop struggling, Austria~!" France winced, his hands wandering as much as they were holding the other country down.

Prussia trembled for a moment, strung tight and muscles clenched, before stalking forward, "that's it," he grabbed hold of two points on France and heaved, yanking him off of Austria and depositing him harshly on the ground.

"Gilbert-?" France looked up, surprised, as though he hadn't expected Prussia to actually stop him. As a general rule, Prussia didn't care who France made his next conquest.

"Don't. Touch. Roderich." Apparently Prussia cared this time.

Germany appeared in the doorway long enough to usher Italy back into the house, away from France's prying hands.

France, however, had different sights. From his vantage point, he had a prime view up one silverette's skirt. One sneaky hand traveled upwards, quickly copping a feel.

Prussia flushed as he let out a yelp, "b-bastard, don't fuckin' touch me either!"

A quick kick to the shin deterred France long enough for the whack to his head to connect the idea that he was unwelcome with his motor skills, causing him to limp off, dejected and glancing back.

"Oh go bother the English prick or somethin', you ass!" Prussia snapped, a victorious air surrounding him once more as he smoothed down the creases in his uniform.

Austria watched France leave his property and let out a slight sound of laughter, "I won't be seeing much of him any time soon." Violet eyes glanced at Prussia, then away again, "And, er… Thanks. For… you know…"

Prussia looked down at him with expressionless silence. When Austria trailed off, he looked away, "sure, whatever."

The stark contrast between Prussia's usual disposition and his current expressions caught Austria's attention. He watched Prussia walk back over to the door, ignoring him the whole way, then stood, gathering the clothes quickly into his arms once more.

He followed behind Prussia, breaking the silence with an offhanded, "I think I have some clothes that might fit you. If you want them," the last part added in a hasty attempt at nonchalance.

"Nah, this is comfortable," Prussia replied with a shrug, then the silence returned, as awkward as before. Just as Austria was searching for something more to say, Prussia asked abruptly, "mind if I crash on your couch tonight? West is gonna take Feli home, and probably be forced into stayin' overnight, and I ain't walkin' home without 'im."

And though Austria knew that Prussia was perfectly capable of walking home by himself, he replied easily, "I do have spare rooms, you know. You can stay in one of those. Better a bed than my couch."

Prussia reached the threshold of the open door, the sounds of Italy and Germany in the kitchen filtering out, but ignored. He paused. Austria had enough presence of mind to stop before running into the idiot (further proving he wasn't an idiot himself).

"Can I crash in YOUR bed?" Prussia glanced over his shoulder, a surprisingly human expression on his face, rather than his usual caricature emotions, "if I promise not to do anythin'?"

Austria paused, feeling the prickling tension drain away, blinked for a moment, before replying, "sure," easily sliding past (ignoring where his arm slid against Prussia's side and the skirt that brushed his thigh) through the open doorway, clothes bundled in his arms.

Slightly surprised, as though expecting a different reaction, Prussia followed, "sweet."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: And that's all there is!

Hope you enjoyed this rollercoaster ride, even if just a little bit~

Happy Holidays from Doom and Ed! (Don't you wish that authors would update during the holidays like us~?)


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